


Loki was Made for This

by locusinbloom (Fractual_Visions)



Category: Thor - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, F/M, Femdom, Hurt/Comfort, Light BDSM, community: naughtylokiconfessions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-16
Updated: 2014-02-16
Packaged: 2018-01-12 14:52:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 314
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1189254
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fractual_Visions/pseuds/locusinbloom
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Crawling, hands buried in high pile carpet, head bowed. Neck weighed by the padlock on his leather collar. Dressed in soft cotton pajamas to match his eyes. Dark hair which swept the carpet when he kissed your ankles.</p><p>"Mistress." Single word, uttered quietly, entreating audience.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Loki was Made for This

**Author's Note:**

> Done for the [Naughty Loki Confessions](http://naughtylokiconfessions.tumblr.com) blog of which I am a devoted follower.

Crawling, hands buried in high pile carpet, head bowed. Neck weighed by the padlock on his leather collar. Dressed in soft cotton pajamas to match his eyes. Dark hair which swept the carpet when he kissed your ankles.

"Mistress." Single word, uttered quietly, entreating audience.

Your voice meets his, equal in gentleness. “Loki. Who am I?”

"You are my goddess."

"And who are you?"

Eyes downcast, lips parted, pliant submission in each single inch of his spine. “I am your slave.”

"Yes. Mine."

With infinite tenderness, you place two leather-clad feet on his shoulders. Draw him into an embrace between your thighs. Your ankles cross in the small of his back, locking him close.

He wears your collar. Dark leather on pale skin, pulse visible, vulnerable beneath your hand. The clip of the leash, taken from your end table, snaps to the D-ring with the perfect sound of ownership.

The slack is wound into your hand, wound tight. You pull with inexorable tension, the leash raising his neck, straightening his body. He makes an agonized moan, desperate pained longing.

You snag a fresh mushroom from the bowl at your elbow. Press it to his lips. Watch his tongue curl obediently around the treat, sucking it into his mouth.

"You please me. In every way, you satisfy me. Loki. My treasure. Precious and flawless. What do you want, my slave?"

"To lose myself awhile. To forget. To please my adored mistress."

"What would you do for me?" You are curious.

Loki settles his head in the hollow of your hip. Gazes up to you. There is pain in his eyes as sharp as nails on a chalkboard. Whispers, earnestly, sincerely.

"Anything."

“Fight for me?”

“Yes.”

“Endure pain for me?”

“Yes.”

“Sacrifice yourself for me?”

“Yes.”

“Suffer humiliation for me?”

“Yes. Gladly.”

“Allow me to love you?”

“I…”

No answer. Just tears trailing down your thigh.


End file.
